Tragic End of Justina
by Skytower4
Summary: This is from Knights of the Dinner Table 95, in that issue the Doomsday pack that Sara has unleashed has combined with the sword Tremble to ravage the countryside. Sara and her freinds try to stop him with the sword Carvin Marvin, but fail.


KODT 95, The Final Chapter

The Tragic End of

Justina of Fangaerie

Cleric of Benyar

Blood and pain filled Justina's eyes as she regained consciousness. The sick smell of burnt and burning flesh and blood filled her nostrils. The sound of insane laughter filled her ears. The laughter sounded so much like the barking of dogs that it caused a storm of despair to engulf the young cleric's soul.

That's when it started, Justina thought bitterly as she fought her way back to reality. The Doomsday Pack. That's when I went from being Justina the Just to Justina the Butcher!

Somehow Justina knew she was at the end of it. Not just the end of the adventure but the end of her life as well. As Benyar willed she saw that life flash before her eyes. Justina had spent a happy childhood in Fangaerie. The child of a wealthy merchant her first few years were spent in play and learning and privilege. But then her father had fallen on hard times and it had been a challenge to survive. But she had met that challenge. And more Justina longed to look at the wide world beyond her low circumstances, a world glimpsed in lessons and tales. A local Benyaran cleric befriended her. He saw potential in Justina that she did not see in herself.

Oh my teacher how low I've fallen. Justina felt the pain of her wounds as she started to move but they did not match the pain in her heart.

As she had grown older Justina had found wealth and success. She had brought great glory to her chosen deity. Eight temples had been built from the gold she had provided. The orphanage in Fangaerie bore His name. A scholarship promised to bring even more followers into the light of Benyar.

But now it was all gone. Justina faced that fact as she looked around the battlefield. The first sight that met her eyes was a horrid one. The human fighter El Ravager; his mind taken beyond hope by the cursed sword he wielded, stood over the body of Knuckles the dwarven thief. Only years of battle hardened instinct stopped Justina from moaning aloud. The two of them had shared a closer bond then any two brothers she had ever known. Yet now El Ravager stood with his foot on the headless body of his former friend.

Burgundy. Justina glanced around the battlefield for the magic user. Of any of them Justina would have bet her soul that Burgundy Lotus would have survived the battle. His miserly spirit would never stand leaving a battlefield so ripe for scavenging. But then she saw his small body not far away from Knuckles. Tears fell from her eyes as Justina saw the burnt and hacked body of the dwarven magic user.

The Untouchable Trio is no more, Justina thought. And it's my fault. I gathered the hounds to save them and I let them get out of control. Now a vicious pack of dogs is loosed on the land, the only way to stop it, the Lyre of Hound Slaying, is gone. Raven Downs, the Town of Treast and Benyar knows how many other farms and villages have gone done before them. Innocent blood stains my hands. MY HANDS!

Rage filled Justina and she slowly climbed to her feet. She ignored the pain and the blood. In her minds eye the cleric saw the future of the world. She heard it in El Ravager's insane laughter. With the power of Tremble backing him up El Ravager would lead the Doomsday pack on a spree that would leave nothing in Fangaerie, perhaps nothing in the world, alive. Looking for a weapon the cleric's eye fell a dull gray sword. Carvin Marvin, the mystical sword that had been almost as insane and power mad as Tremble. Knuckles had wielded it against Tremble and obviously lost. But even if it was no longer mystical it was still a sword, and El Ravager was still a man.

Justina ran toward the sword, dropping her scabbard as she ran. El Ravager didn't hear her as she picked up the sword. Carvin Marvin felt cold and dead in her hands. She ran toward her former friend calling on a lifetime of training and experience to keep silent. But somehow he heard her.

El Ravager spun around and the look on his face was enough to freeze Justina's soul. It was the visage of Tremble, yet even that was distorted and the cleric realized that Tremble had absorbed not only all the souls that had been held captive in Carvin Marvin, but the spirit of Carvin Marvin himself. In the maelstrom of that insanity there was no trace of the human Justina knew.

The head! Justina preyed desperately. I must take his head or the sword will heal him again. Please Benyar grant me his head! My life, my honor, nothing matters but that I get his head!

Justina swung the sword with every bit of strength left in her body. It was an expert swipe, catching the small space between El Ravager's helmut and gorget. She felt the sword cleave into flesh and bone and cut through them into the air once more.

But at the same time she saw El Ravager's head leave his body Justina felt the pain as Tremble stabbed into her side. Justina felt no joy as El Ravagers body fell lifeless to the ground. She staggered back against a boulder and drew Carvin Marvin onto her lap. Justina's body grew cold and stiff as her lifeblood soaked the Earth. But she managed a small smile. Everyone was dead but Tremble was stopped. He would not use El Ravager. Justina knew she would be judged. She had died in dishonor and many deaths would be laid upon her grave.

I trust in Benyar's wisdom, she thought as her soul left her body.

But Justina's soul did not leave the battlefield. An icy wind surrounded her and drew her back toward the headless body of El Ravager: Toward Tremble.

Justina screamed and tried to pull away but her soul had no strength against the wind. Tremble had killed her; the cleric's soul was the property of the spirit of the sword. Justina felt the claws of the insane spirit dig into her own. The hatred was nearly a physical blow and it was a hatred that knew her as the destroyer of Tremble's host body. Justina realized that Benyar's mercy would not grace her.

The slight smile that was now frozen on the face of Justina's lifeless body now seemed to mock her soul. It was the last sight Justina saw as she was dragged into the sword's hell-world. The vision faded as Tremble's voice whispered of the eternal torments he would bring to her. Mixed in with his voice were the howling calls of the Doomsday pack as they moved on to another town.

End.


End file.
